


A Job Well Done

by Mafiagf



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Foursome - F/M/M/M, Group Sex, Multi, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism, and john is a brat, anyways dutch is dutch, arthur is heartbroken n horny, hot dogging, is there a word for two guys eating out the same person?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 19:55:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17587352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mafiagf/pseuds/Mafiagf
Summary: Set pre RDR2 in which John and Arthur are constantly fighting and almost botch a job set up by reader through their petty rivalry. Dutch sets out for the two of them to make amends to reader.





	A Job Well Done

**Author's Note:**

> The timeline doesn't particularly make sense I know, but we're here for a cowboy orgy not the history channel

You always relished the burst of adrenaline after a job well done and the accompanying scratches, bruises and bloodstains. Truth be told, it was nigh on more valuable than any loot, any gold, or any infamy you had garnered in your time with the van der Linde gang. You had learned quickly that this sentiment was a shared trait of each of the other members, which bonded you together and solidified your loyalty. The look of pure exhilaration and pride on the faces of the men and women in camp after a robbery were so enticing you found every excuse to join their plans in the early days. That was when it purely for the thrill of it all, the danger and unknown and of course the money at the end of it all.

Long before you had looked most excitedly to the celebrations and rush of adrenaline after the fact with your fellow outlaws. It was only natural for the men to become incredibly needy for any sort of touch, the adrenaline still coursing through them looking for any outlet they could find. Whenever you had taken up a job with Arthur and John you knew what to expect, and loved every second. Up until now they would simply get a little too tipsy at the saloon a few towns over from the job itself, taking turns to impress you with their gun skills, past tales and sheer strength through bouts of arm wrestling. John’s wiry arms always fighting a losing battle against the built form of Arthur’s own.

This time however, you could tell things were different. Not just because that it was organised by you or even the presence of Dutch, who reassured you he attended not to undermine your abilities but to keep an eye on the other two. It was the unending number of spats between John and Arthur over the past few days, and sure enough it would come to a head on the job. Something that Dutch was guaranteed to stomp out as soon as it started.

You eye them across camp as they prepare their mounts, bickering over the proper way to break a horse yet again. A number of days earlier John had set out on his own to find himself a worthy horse, but arrived back at camp the following night both exhausted and equally embarrassed as he came empty handed, bar his pathetic looking lasso. Arthur hadn’t stopped ribbing him about it, as it was him who offered to show the younger man how to go about it. To John’s further embarrassment it was Arthur who had successfully returned with a horse for him, making sure the entirety of camp could see the exchange. An irritated thanks was spat out as John took the reins and walked back to the hitching posts. You roll your eyes at the sight of fingers being pointed roughly in the other’s face and light a cigarette to relieve your nerves. You puff away silently, continuing to observe and evaluate the two.

Though they could at times manage to pull off jobs together, there was always a certain amount of risk when they two were together. One of them always managed to have a short fuse on the most important of days for the gang, but apart they rarely ever had any trouble. Not even a minor hiccup in train robberies or homestead raids. You had contemplated several times just going up to them when they were like this and knocking their thick skulls together, but managed to resist – only barely. Leaning against the hitching post and lost in your thoughts you fail to hear the footsteps approaching. Dutch copies you, hands folded together and focus on the boys. Out of the corner of his eye he spots your deep frown and the flexing of your hand into a fist, a sure sign of your tiredness of their behaviour. He smirked at this but ultimately, he felt the same.

“They’ve never been quite so good with sharing responsibility, always tryin’ to prove themselves to the other as long as I’ve known ‘em” He speaks suddenly, breaking your thoughts.

“Oh, I’ve seen, be sure of that! You must have given ‘em a real good example” You snorted at the older man, who only turned to look at you with mock disgust.

“That cuts me deeply. I am well capable of sharing responsibility, you’ll see soon enough. I’m just as involved in this one as you!” He sniffed as he made his way over to his two wards. You couldn’t help but notice the slight shake of his head and the smile on his lips, masked by the thick moustache he had recently started sporting. He was an undeniably charismatic man, blessed with sharp and striking features but you think to yourself that this new facial hair was the cherry on top. You quickly derailed the rapidly obscene thoughts appearing in your mind. “God, how long had it been?” you ask yourself before returning to the task at hand. Throwing the cigarette to the ground, crushed under your heel you follow suit in making preparations. You soothe your horse and check for the fourth time that morning that you had what you need for every eventuality. There’s an awkward, tension filled silence hanging in the air as you do so. Presumably Dutch’s reprimanding had its effect on them, but was little more than a quick fix for an underlying issue. The two now kept their distance from one another as you all departed camp, you leading alongside Arthur and John and Dutch a ways behind. It somehow managed to be just enough room to be tolerable, and still remain an irritating presence in the other’s mind.

The ride out to the armoured stagecoach’s location, and the robbery itself were practically seamless. No brave or courageous drivers wishing to become a martyr for a faceless bank. No impossible locks, or even hidden gunmen inside the coach itself. It had gone perfectly, which lead you to believe that it was too good to be true. With this being your first job to bring to the gang, you were more than ready to leave as soon as possible. Your eyes squint and dart around the scene in the blinding light, pale stones dazzling you. John had spent more time than necessary robbing the drivers themselves, and had Arthur barking and roaring at the younger man to join the rest of you already. You could see the tension between the two rise again, and noticed a frustrated sigh from Dutch as he shouted over Arthur’s hoarse commands. John’s shoulders immediately tensed at the sound and kept his rifle pointed at the two drivers as he walked backwards to his steed.

Arthur readjusted himself on his horse, moving the saddlebag on his shoulder and muttered to himself something involving “goddamn kid” before kicking his own horse into action, moving swiftly ahead of the rest of you. You knew the routine to follow, the sulking on Arthur’s part for John not respecting his authority as well as John’s sulking for having to listen to Arthur at all. He’d felt he was capable enough to lead things on his own, but both Dutch and Arthur were not ready to hand over that role to the young man. In the time you rode with this gang you quickly learned to leave the two of them well enough alone when they were like this, which as it would happen was almost a twice weekly occurrence by your count.

The four of you rode hard over the dirt roads, and grassy hills until Dutch halted you all and slowed to enter a small cattle town. Not a word had been said on the journey, the only sound the harsh breaths of the horses as they were pushed to the limit by their riders, through frustration and hurt pride. On your part, you made sure to stroke your own animal’s neck and to sneak in a sugar cube here and there to reassure them there was no danger. You had heard all your life that animals sense tension and react to it in their riders, and there was no denying the horses felt every bit of the strain in the air between the group.

When you’d finally slowed to a stop, outside a slightly run-down saloon in god knows where, you hitched your steed down the way from the others. Once satisfied of the animal’s condition, you turned and approached the others who stood waiting by the steps. They weren’t even conscious of you it seemed, as Dutch berated the both of them in practiced hushed tones.

“I am sick to the back teeth of the two of you actin’ like the goddamn children you were when I found you. You know better than to act like that, and on a job? A goddamn disgrace if you ask me”

You stopped in your tracks, deciding it best to have a cigarette to calm yourself and avoid entering the uncomfortable scene occurring next to you. Out of the corner of your eye you watched Arthur nod his head to Dutch’s scolding, rubbing the back of his neck out of embarrassment – the skin you noticed was a deep pink. The heat and sun were no more punishing than usual, you thought and realised it was the shame of his behaviour that caused it. Your stomach dropped, the boys were fine. Really. They could just get a little too competitive between each other. When Dutch felt he had adequately told off Arthur, he shifted his attention to the slightly taller man. Something you had quickly noticed than John would constantly remind Arthur about. There was no air of smugness or boyish pride in his stance now however. He simply stared at his worn boots, chewing the side of his mouth to the words of Dutch.

“Are you even fuckin’ listenin’, boy?” Dutch demanded, moving closer to John and grabbing his face to meet his fiery gaze. You had turned your head fully to watch them now, cigarette long forgotten about as it began to burn your fingertips.

“Yes, sir.” John spat back, Dutch quickly released him from his grip. So quickly that for a second John was off balance on the uneven trodden ground outside the saloon. Dutch’s dark eyes looked from him to past him altogether, and met yours. He blinked, and sighed and turned his attention back to the two men.

“Go inside, get a drink. Try not to embarrass yourselves” He ordered, before the two quickly went to move past him he grabbed their arms.

“You know damn well how to act in front a lady. This was her job from the start, and you two risked that. Be sure to apologise and show some goddamned respect in the future” He growled before finally allowing them to enter the packed saloon. Songs and laughter bubbled though as they entered, the doors slowly shutting behind them both. The two of you stood some distance apart, the sound of crickets being overwhelmed by cheers and shouts from inside. The faint glow from the windows let you see the deep frown on Dutch’s face as he looked at nothing in particular. You ignored the pit in your stomach and approached him, once again feeling a tension roll off of him. Dutch got out the first word before you had a chance.

“I’m sorry about that. The way they were today, it’s…unprofessional and it won’t happen again. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea of ‘em.”

You looked back at him, puzzled but he ignored the look and continued.

“They’re good boys. Just need some boundaries.” He spoke with his hands, rings glinting in the cold moonlight and warm lights from the saloon. You couldn’t tell at his point if he was trying to convince you or himself. You could tell he deeply loved those boys, and just like a father he grew tired of their nonsense. You didn’t want him to apologise for them anymore, and told him so.

“Look it’s fine – no, no it is!” You raised your own hand to dismiss his arguments.

“At the end of the day, it worked out. We got our money, got out and nobody died!” You joked, trying to alleviate the tension.

Dutch only snorted a little, and warm eyes met your own. Not the dark, fiery ones you’d witnessed moments ago.

“I still think it’s a little early to celebrate that last one but I appreciate the sentiment.”

You smiled back, a genuine one as you were relieved to see his mood lighten. He extended his arm to you and you walked into the saloon together.

Following Dutch’s orders, both Arthur and John made their way over to you throughout the night. The liquor had its desired effect and let them relax, both apologising profusely but more importantly blamed the other for their own behaviour. You mentally rolled your eyes at this but said nothing, just enjoying the newfound peace. Arthur as always was softer in his approach, he asked you quietly to speak in private, Dutch only raised his glass to you as you left the bar and joined Arthur at an empty table. He moved some of the left-over glasses and beers out of the way, procrastinating what he was to say. You saw that he swayed slightly, not entirely drunk but tipsy as he usually was after a job. A deep sigh left him and he moved his hand to fall on your wrist, over your own hand.

You looked up at him at this, while he slowly met your gaze. He apologised quickly but sincerely, his warm hand squeezing your own as he spoke. While he did so, you couldn’t help but realise it wasn’t just John who had been setting him off lately. It had completely slipped your mind with the researching of the armoured carriage, but he’d just had his heart broken. You felt like slapping yourself for being so blind, here he was only a few weeks since having his idyllic engagement fulfilled with that girl Mary shattered to pieces. When he’d returned that particular evening, he was worlds away and spoke to no one. The newly bought suit and trousers he’d saved for tossed to the ground of his tent. He didn’t leave as far as you knew for the next two days. Hosea and Dutch attempted to get through to him that she wasn’t right for him but what did they know? His entire future uprooted once again, only a few weeks before that had he revealed to you about the passing of his child and his mother. The weight of his hand on yours brought you back to the present. He had said his piece and began to stand but you held onto his warm, calloused hand, your other one coming to meet and cage it.

“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, Arthur” You told him, your tone of voice soft but reaffirming.

Vivid eyes flicked up to meet your own, and you watched a small smile grace his lips before moving to his eyes. The warmth of which was not lost on you, you thought you noticed a welling in them, but before you could be sure he mumbled a thanks and let his fingers slip from your own. You watched his broad back as he made his way back to bar, back to Dutch. His hand came down on the back of Arthur’s neck, pulling him close in a sign of affection. The scene touched your heart, they truly cared for each other and you knew Arthur would do anything for the man who’d rescued him.

As you watched the two slip into conversation with the barkeep, you hear the chair Arthur had occupied being moved and occupied by John Marston. He sat farther apart from you than Arthur had, indicative of their personalities you thought. John preferred to keep his distance from everyone, even those closest to him whereas Arthur was always giving and reassuring those he cared about with the warmth of his presence. You took a sip from your beer, watching him shift in his seat. He chewed the side of his mouth in thought once more, fiddling with the bottle between his legs. Dutch caught your attention from across the room once more, eyes watching John intently before raising his glass to you in a nod.

John’s apology was drawn out and awkward for all parties, though he talked a big game at the end of the day he was still one of the youngest of the group and it showed at times like this. He mumbled out an apology of sorts, sure to get a jab in at Arthur’s ego to get a laugh out of you. You clinked your drinks together, an effort on your part to get the entire conversation over with. It wasn’t that you weren’t fond of John, you just didn’t want to watch him struggle with his place within the hierarchy of the gang at that very moment. This was supposed to be a celebration after all, and the first job you’d organised yourself! The two of you quickly forgot about all the awkwardness and fell into easy conversation, John moving closer to you with each sip of liquor.

You’d noticed this but your mind was too pleasantly hazy to care, you had thought he was keen on that new arrival Abigail but perhaps not. Or, he was hoping for some well needed practice dealing with women before he approached her. You didn’t mind too much, he was a handsome man after all.

Dark features paired with darker eyes, akin to that of Dutch. When you thought about it, they were probably the most alike, rather than Arthur and Dutch. Arthur was softer, much more like Hosea in his mannerisms and attitude. Both Dutch and John were rougher around the edges, Dutch out of experience and John with his lack thereof. Your mind switched from one to the other and then the last before renewing the cycle again as the liquor flowed. You had respect for each of the three for different reasons and truth be told, you’d partaken to the gossip of the other girls in camp of their good looks. Dutch had a striking face, sharp nose and wide jaw and his voice was one you could swear you could feel between your legs with every word. He was a man of authority, and a source of hope and comfort. Similarly, Arthur was a gentle soul underneath a rough exterior, a creative who enjoyed the quiet and comfort of those around him. Though for all this he had a terrible self-esteem, he was in a constant state of melancholy as of late which only made matters worse. He was the kind of man you would enjoy to treat and praise, the way you knew he deserved. Whereas John was something like a wild child, still finding his feet within the group as an adult. John had seemed to you as passionate but impatient as he was in his work, always wanting to rush things in his inexperience. You couldn’t deny that you enjoyed listening to him speak, about anything at all. He had a hoarse rasp that was well beyond his years, but enticed you all the same. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

You were lost in your thoughts, the warmth of the alcohol was welcome, and shared between you and John in that moment. You hadn’t noticed the others begin to approach the table, lost in fits of laughter at the tale of Arthur buying a couple sea bass and passing it off as his own hard work. You hadn’t noticed either just how close John had gotten to you, foreheads nearly knocking off the other in laughter. Out of nowhere in particular, you felt John kiss the side of your mouth, evidently missing his target. You laugh into it and shake your head nonchalantly and take another sip. He apologises meekly, but you stop him and tell him there’s no need.

You mightn’t have noticed the others approach and you most certainly didn’t notice the falter of Arthur’s heavy footsteps over to the table, almost making Dutch spill his drink from behind as he stopped so abruptly. Dutch cursed the younger man and went to tell him off again before his eyes followed Arthur’s. Dutch simply rolled his eyes, this had been a pattern for them. He simply patted his shoulder and brought him forward unwillingly.

“Are we all friends again?” Dutch asks in a sing song, setting his drink down and pulling a chair against the aged wooden floorboards. Arthur does so as well, though methodically slower so as not to fall over or start another fight with the younger man.

“Yeah you could say that” John spoke into his bottle, eyes gleaming under the brim of his hat, a faint blush along his nose lost in the low lighting. You felt John’s hand reach for your knee, you simply eye him. Not particularly asking him to stop but to observe him, his newfound relaxedness a welcome change from earlier.

“Well I’m glad to hear it, and you, Arthur?” Dutch turns to the man at his left, who had been picking at loose pieces of wood from countless games of five finger fillet. You watched the next brief exchange carefully, Dutch frowned and shoved Arthur’s elbow who grunted in agreement. This unenthused response only set Dutch’s frown deeper, hand tapping against his glass. In an instant Dutch’s gaze fell on John, who immediately removed his hand from you and shifted away from you. This entire day had you exhausted as it was, and the presence of the drink in your system made you quickly stand to your feet, perhaps too quickly. Three sets of eyes fell on you, interrupted from a silent conversation you were not privy to.

“I’m getting’ a little sick of all this shit to be honest with you boys” You extended your ring finger from the bottle in your hand to point at the entire situation.

“I’m going to bed, try not to kill each other” You mutter and finish your drink, slamming it onto the table and making your way to the stairs.

In all honesty you were sick to death of all of them. In your rented room you undressed in a huff, replaying the days’ events over and over as you discarded each piece of clothing until you sat on the edge of the bed with a deep scowl on your face. You hurled out several profanities at them in your mind, smirking at the hypothetical looks of shock that befell them. You soon realised how stupid it all was, especially the stewing in your room over what you could have said and put your head in your hand, rubbing the side between your fingers with a sigh. You slowly stood and folded your clothes one by one before putting them in the chest at the beds’ feet. Anything you could to dismiss the evident tension between you and the three men.

“He wasn’t lying about the sharing thing was he, can’t even share attention” You muttered to yourself as you stood and stretched, the long day catching up on your now aching shoulders. You opened the window, and decided to run some cool water over your face to relax. You open the door and almost walk straight into Arthur who had been outside debating about knocking, the sounds of moans and screams coming from the room next to yours doing little for his nerves. You stood in front of each other for a few seconds longer than necessary, waiting for him to say something. Until you realised you stood before him in a fairly unbuttoned union suit you’d bought a few days earlier. When you met his eyes, you saw that blush you had daydreamed about so often, and swallow hard. Telling your tipsy mind to stop thinking so loudly.

“Everythin’ alright?” You manage to say, arms crossing in front of your chest. Arthur stood closely, wringing his large hands together before nodding solemnly.

“Is it…uh..i-is it alright if I come in?” He stutters out, for a man usually so sure of his words it was strange to see him like this, so you relent. You make way and close the door behind him with a click, but the aged door only bounces back by a fraction unbeknownst to you. He doesn’t turn to face you but continues to wring his hands together like he was washing clothes by the stream.

“I’m quite fond of you” He suddenly says, slowly turning to face you.

Your head cocked ever so slightly, you had been fast friends during your time with the gang. His admission was not shocking so much as it felt rather natural. Come to think of it, you supposed you felt the same. Looking back, you felt slighted when he began to spend so much time outside of camp with Mary but you had put it down to losing your footing with your first real friend of the group. The music from downstairs boomed underfoot, a slight vibration rattling through the floorboards, swallowing the silence in the bedroom. You only moved closer, bringing a hand to his that continued to fidget uncontrollably.

“I’m rather fond of you too, and I know…I know you’ve been through a lot lately so, if that’s all this is…that’s alright with me. I want you to know I’m not expecting anything after what happened.”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, illuminated in dim candlelight as he blinks at your words, a small sigh escapes him. He knows himself that this could just be a result of his heartbreak, the liquor on his lips and tongue and the biting attitude of John undermining him but you understood that. There was no need to pretend or lie. For now? Well that was enough.

His forehead met yours and he brought his once frantic hands to cup your face against his. Your own rest on his, noses touching and quick breaths and huffs beginning to mix together. The briefest of kisses were placed on your lips by him, but there was little time for that you decided. You push against him harder, a heated but firm kiss nonetheless. His right-hand slips behind your neck into your hair, and you grasp his collared shirt to pull him even closer. No other thoughts come to mind, not even once in these few minutes, only of where to go next.

That is until the bedroom door creaks open, loudly and purposefully to draw your attention from one another. Your stomach drops at the sight of a glaring John, jacket lost and shirt slightly unbuttoned, a bottle in his hand. You feel Arthur let out a huff behind you and go to say something but you realise that John isn’t upset with you, not at all.

“The hell is this, Morgan? Ain’t you got a girl? Shit… guess I forgot” He spits out at Arthur between a deep swig of whisky, earning a grumble from him as he squeezed your hip.

Before anymore is said and you’re back at square one, you throw your hands up and tell them both to leave with a shout. You drag Arthur in one hand and go to push John out with the other, who raises his own hands in a mock surrender.

“Hey! Hey! Hey! Stop a minute already!” He pleads, awkwardly stuck in the doorframe next to Arthur, bottle threatening to drop any second. You do so, hoping to get some sense out of either man but you receive quite the opposite.

“We can get along like Dutch said, y’know!” John’s voice breaks slightly as he tries to explain himself, which earns only a snort from you having seen how well they’ve done in the past. Arthur however picks up on something in John’s tone and attempts to drag him out of the doorframe into the hallway before he says another word.

John only pulls himself out of the larger man’s grasp, nearly landing face first into the door in the process. Arthur then grabs his forearm, but you stop him, allowing John the perfect opportunity to speak.

“We _can_ get along, I’m serious. We can always put our differences aside to get the job done…Shit, this wouldn’t even be the first time!” He barks out with a laugh, the joke lost on you. You look up at Arthur for some clarification but receive only another deep shade of pink on his cheeks and a furrow in his brow.

You couldn’t possibly be that drunk that you’d get something so wrong, and Arthur’s silence let you know you hadn’t.

After John’s admission or rather - invitation, things happened relatively quickly. You nodded to John in agreement encouraged by the liquor in your veins, curious to see how the two of the men would carry themselves. You hadn’t even thought to ask Arthur his thoughts, but you needn’t have worried yourself. His hands firmly grasping your hips from behind, and a kiss placed on your neck as John strode over to you both. Your nerves hit you in a rush, but were soon put aside when John placed his lips on your own. You couldn’t help but compare the two men once more as you deepened the kiss, a soft groan from John reverberating through him. Where Arthur was languid but firm, John was far needier and rushed through the motions in an admirable eagerness. The feeling of the two working in tandem on your skin was a delight to the senses, and made you breathless in seconds. Arthur having heard the hitch in your throat only smiles into your neck, stubble rubbing against where his open mouth had placed wet kisses. You open your eyes when you feel John finally pull away, catching his breath and make note of the look of pride he shares with Arthur before rubbing your cheek in his rough palm.

John’s eyes are darker than ever in the dim light, but you can still see the familiar gleam as he nods to Arthur, whose hand moves from your clothed hip to the side of your neck in an effort to turn you towards his own mouth. The two swap targets, and John begins his own assault on your neck but makes sure to tease lower towards the warm skin of your chest. John’s hands grip you through the union suit, thumbs circling and enticing your nipples to peak. It may not have been the most attractive of garments to wear given the situation but you don’t quite care to curse the fabric. It had gotten you this far, right? The attention given to your chest makes you moan into Arthur’s mouth, whose tongue has met yours earning a response from him in turn.  Your left hand comes to grip Arthur’s blond locks, fingers beginning to dig deep in his heated scalp when you feel your chest being bared to the cool air before being encapsulated in a wet heat. John only chuckles at this, a rumble in his throat that only enhances the feeling oh his hot mouth at your breast.

You break the heated kiss from Arthur, out of necessity rather than wanting to but keep his face close to yours. Out of the corner of your eye you see his lips bruised and swollen, realising you must look equally dishevelled. Your free hand tangles into John’s raven hair at your chest at the image, a soft tug earning a deeper moan from the younger man. A rational part of your brain committing this detail to memory to exploit in the future.

“Goddamn” You sigh, the word drawn out in an exhale and as shaky as the rest of you feels but you relish in the knowledge of your safety with the two men. As if sensing this, another feeling of stubble hits your cheek as Arthur beams at your words, fevered pecks breaking the scratching on your heated face in a show of praise and admiration. Arthur’s hand on your neck moves higher, to brush the hair from your face gently. He turns his attention to observing John, rather envious of his position but appreciative of your responses nonetheless. As he strokes your hair and John works to unbutton the suit further, he begins to murmur quietly into your ear.

“This good, huh? You deserve this y’know. Wanna make you feel so good, girl” He tells you in between pets of your head, making you push against his chest to rub yourself on his clothed erection digging into your ass. Seeing your keenness for Arthur, John decides to turn that attention towards himself by placing two slender fingers against your own clothed sex. The heat of which makes him pull away from your nipples, and gaze up at you in awe. You buck your hips between the two, beginning to sound desperate which only entices John’s teasing further, fingers becoming soaked through the fabric. In the next moment, the three of you freeze. Through the sounds of huffs, groans and praises you hear the shifting of floorboards outside. The light underneath the aged door obscured by a figure, someone outside kneeling no doubt to peer through the keyhole. John releases you and quickly stands to his feet, Arthur turns you in his arms to hold you against his chest so you aren’t exposed to the intruder. No words are spoken, just quick breathes are heard as Arthur nods towards the door to John. Naturally, he removes his revolver from its holster at his side and quickly opens the door to face the voyeur. With your face buried into the warmth of Arthur’s chest you don’t see the culprit but feel Arthur immediately relax upon realisation.

“It’s good to see the two of you working together” A familiar voice rumbles in a laugh and the smell of a cigar makes your heart clench, you whip your head at the source to see Dutch leaning against the doorframe with a grin. As if he hadn’t just been spying on the three of you.

You’re left speechless, but observe the tell-tale sign of embarrassment on John’s flushed face.

“Though, I can’t help but feel that they’re forgetting something” he speaks to you now, slowly approaching you either to tease or to reassure you. You aren’t entirely sure. Arthur says nothing but his hold on you loosens ever so slightly the closer the older man gets to you both. Dutch raises his right hand to stroke your cheek, the cold of his rings evoke a shiver against your heated skin. He smiles ever so slightly, as if this were the most natural thing in the world to be almost bare in front of three of your gang members at once.

Your brain realises his last sentence was in actual fact deserving of a response, as he intended. Always a master wordsmith.

“And what’s that?” You whisper as he continues to gently stroke your face. The question he had been waiting for finally give, he removes his hand and brings the cigar to his lips. Inhaling deeply before answering you, another tease to draw out the situation. You faintly heard John firmly close and lock the door and approach silently behind Dutch, awaiting instruction.

“Why, the chain of command of course” He exhales in a grin, warm eyes never breaking from yours. Heat begins to flood your already flushed skin once more, before you feel it make its way throughout your body at his meaning. Still in Arthur’s arms, he watches you eye Dutch’s lips and a deep sigh rattles his chest as he watches his leader close the small distance between him and you. It was a rough kiss initially, as John’s had been but became lazy and sloppy as Arthur’s. The best of both worlds, his moustache providing a wonderful friction against your lips that was one you could imagine vividly elsewhere. Arthur slowly frees you from his grasp, and your arms instinctively wrap around Dutch’s neck, you feel one hand firmly rub against your back down to your ass with a grasp at the end of its journey.

You had almost entirely forgotten about the presence of John and Arthur in the room, breathing heavily at the sight of you and Dutch. When he finally pulls away from you, allowing you a moment to recuperate, he disposes of his cigar before guiding you to the bed. Arthur sat at your right-hand side, John at the left. The two take further turns nipping and suckling at your neck and chest, causing you to recline against the soft mattress, legs now dangling over the edge as they did. John’s nimble fingers make quick work of the rest of your buttons, and Arthur lifts you back up to remove the clothing altogether. Now completely bare to the three, you realise Dutch had been standing at your feet, watching the entire display with great enjoyment. You hadn’t noticed that there had been little words spoken between the three men, any disputes or protests leaving you to conclude this hadn’t been the first they had indulged together. The idea of which made your hips grind against the bedsheets unconsciously as you held eye contact with Dutch who slowly unbuckled his trousers having already put away his prized gun belt.

He then rubs your calf absentmindedly, a reassuring gesture as he leans over your body to speak directly to you as though no one else were in the world.

“I did say these two can share responsibility, but they still have a lot to learn. Me? Well, I pride myself in my work.” He grunts before capturing your heavily swollen lips in another kiss, he breaks this one far too quickly. A flash of a smile as he hears you whimper at the loss of contact. In leaning back, he inserts two thick fingers into your heat making your head fall back onto the bed. His other hand holds onto your warm stomach to keep you in place, and on cue both Arthur and John praise and kiss your body, sighing into your skin adorned with goosebumps. You buck downwards against Dutch’s fingers, almost shrieking when you feel the cool metal of his rings brush against your heat, the contrast heavenly but teasing. Arthur returns to petting your hair and smoothing it against his fingers in between hot kisses at your neck, John sucking and nibbling at the other side. It was already too much, the digits entering and exiting effortlessly only enhancing the work of the other men. You begin to tighten against Dutch’s fingers, and open half lidded eyes at him seeing his hand on your stomach move slowly to circle your clit in an effort to finish you there and then. A series of curses and moans escape your lips, spurred on by the two men at your side who call your name in an effort to focus your attention on them. Never able to fully accept the other’s presence. A sensory overload as well as overstimulation of your sex is what pushes you to the edge, gripping Dutch’s fingers earning an encouraging laugh from the older man between your legs. He slowly moves his fingers to a standstill, cooing and praising you all the while.

“I’m a firm believer in rewards, and by God have you earned some today”

He cocks his head at your breathless nods.

“You want me to make you feel good, baby? Want these boys here to make you feel good? You want to don’t you, boys?” He calls to them softly for an answer. In tandem they both answer eagerly, obviously well used to this scenario.

“Yes, Dutch”

“That’s good. Really good. This girl here needs it after all her hard work today, what a fine job she did too. Ain’t that right, fellas?” He calls again without breaking eye contact, bringing his fingers to hover against your lips as he did.

“Yes, Dutch” They say with extra emphasis, Arthur bucking his hips against your side unconsciously. Where John answers in a half groan at the anticipation, swallowing hard.

Dutch pulls his fingers away and removes his cock from his trousers, before slowly moving it from your slick folds to your already overstimulated clit. You groan at the feeling, but he doesn’t give in just yet – wanting to get his cock completely covered in your need before he enters you. And when he does, it leaves you completely breathless in a shudder. The blunt head of him slowly pushes through, a shaky chuckle leaving his throat as he stops to let you get accustomed to his girth. You shake slightly against the bedsheets, and feel Arthur raise your right leg in the air, hooking his arm around it to keep it elevated. The fact that this isn’t the first time they’ve done this with a woman only makes you whine, feeling John do the same with your left leg. Both of them grind slightly against your hips, in an effort to get any relief from the evenings’ events.

Seeing how lost you are in thought, Dutch pushes his hips forward again until he is flush against you. He keeps his eyes closed and enjoys the sensation, his chin held high at the feeling of your walls – so hot and welcoming. Once more, he does not move in an effort to keep you comfortable but it has the opposite effect and in no time at all you begin to try and push downwards against him, words completely forgotten. He opens his eyes at this and smiles sweetly at you and thankfully relents, a sharp thrust the answer to your silent prayers. Your hands cling to his shoulders, digging into the soft fabric of his waistcoat as he continues to push harder into your heat. His own hands dig into the flesh of your thighs, pushing your legs further into the arms of John and Arthur who both continue to try and rut against your sides. Grunts, curses and calls of your name erupting like a chorus from each party, like heaven to the ears. The younger men are barely audible, voices running deeper than ever until they are almost incomprehensible grunts and growls of pleasure that you feel more than hear.

Dutch on the other hand never once stops talking, speaking some praise of how you look, how you feel and how you’ll feel after the other two get their turn. All of which only spur you on in bucking against Dutch’s harsh thrusts against you, cock relentless in your heat looking for release. Seeing the desperation on your face, the shakiness of your moans he realises you’re close again and looks to Arthur.

“Touch her. Now” He commands lowly and Arthur complies, moving your leg against his shoulder as his fingers dance along heated skin to meet your clit. He curses and grits his teeth at just how wet the bundle of nerves is to the touch, rutting against the bed now as he roughly circles the flesh. His eyes never leaving your face. John is much the same, huffing into your neck, hair slick against his own skin as he’s very nearly close himself just from grinding against you.

Before he gets the chance however, you finally reach the peak for the second time that night and arch your back against Arthur’s fingers, walls tightening like a vice around Dutch’s twitching cock before he pulls out. The absence of him almost ruins the orgasm but Arthur saves it through his continued rubbing and pinching of your clit all the while revering you as a good girl over and over, Dutch finishing himself in hand at the display.

“That’s so good, sweetheart...Just perfect” He exhales above you, hands gently running down your shaking thighs to the beginnings of your ass. Once Dutch recovers somewhat, he leans forward once more and the two other men instinctively move away, releasing your legs from their grip as Dutch lies flush against your body. He covers your face in heated but languid kisses, the affection surprising but most welcome and you pull him closer around his neck. You huff together for some time, exhausted already before he sighs and begins to move off the bed but deciding to draw you back into another searing kiss before he does so. He groans with relief against you, and you mirror him exactly. He strokes your flushed cheek once more, and moves to stand. He begins to tidy himself up and you’re almost upset at the thought of him leaving. He sees this look and smiles slightly.

“I ain’t goin’ anywhere just yet, darlin’. I just wanna get a better seat” He drawls slowly but reassuringly, breath finally returning to normal as he fixes his trousers. He motions for the two men to move once more, and they oblige as he crawls onto the bed once more. This time moving to the head of it, placing the pillows behind him beckoning for you with open arms. You move slowly, a dull ache between your legs and welcome the embrace as he moves you so your back meets his chest. He kisses the side of your head delicately, a gesture in sharp contrast to the previous few minutes and motions for Arthur and John to return. He kept you close in his arms as the two got onto the bed, which creaked under the combined weight of you all. Soft smiles and tender eyes meet yours, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t want to keep going. Dutch widened his legs to in turn spread yours above him, opening you up to the boys’ gaze. A hand ran down your body just above your mound of hair, rubbing slow circles to soothe you.

“You a little sore, sweetheart?” He cooed, not in jest but genuine concern. You nod your head a little and he sighs regretfully, placing another kiss on your temple in apology. Not that you were upset at the ache.

“Why don’t the two of you make her feel a little better, hmm?” He suggests before turning his focus back to you.

“Nice and gentle now, alright?” He murmurs the instruction, voice cracking slightly in your ear.

You watch Arthur and John move closer on their stomachs, faces between your legs. You try to spread yourself a little further, and feel Dutch smile against your cheek at the sight. Arthur as gentle as ever begins by kissing your inner thighs, following with his tongue circling where his lips had been. He does this in cycles, moving slowly closer to your folds which are already growing slick once more. He senses this and it evokes a dreamy sigh from him, huffing against your skin. While John grasps and massages the flesh of your thighs in his hands, working out the tension you’d been holding before diving in and letting his tongue lay flat against your heat in a broad swipe. Dutch moves his hands to spread out your folds, erect clit exposed to the two men who swiftly move for it. The few times you had experienced this, it was sloppy and quick but you knew exactly what you were in for tonight was nothing of the sort. Two sets of tongues meet, taking turns to lick, tease, swipe and circle it in an effort to draw further cries and moans of their names. John’s impatience led him to push Arthur’s head away with his own to tease the nerves with his teeth, your hands dart to his head and your nails sink into his mess of hair. On cue he moans hotly against you as you tug his head forward, ever closer. In response to this, Arthur huffs in annoyance but moves his hand under John’s head to sink his middle finger into your heat. You had been oversensitive already, but Arthur’s touch was gentle as he curled his finger upwards to find your sweet spot and coax you towards release again. You’d have to be blind however to not see that another bout of competitiveness had erupted between your legs, but truth be told you were enjoying it too much. Dutch on the other hand was quick to reprimand them.

“You two wanna act like boys, you can damn well leave.” He growls, the sound of which causes an involuntary shiver run through you. You were too close already, and the halting of their combined movements left you needy and on the brink of tears. Dutch sees this, and with another glare darted to the other men he removes the frustrated tears with gentle kisses before nuzzling the side of your face with his own. His stubble a welcome distraction from the ache, but before you dwell on it any longer the two between your legs resume their work with added enthusiasm. It took no time at all before you began writhing under their joint ministrations on your body, hot breath and teasing swiping at your clit and two thick fingers curling deep inside you working together to get you off.

You lose all sense of thought, and grip onto John’s mess of hair and Arthur’s other hand digging into the flesh of your thigh. Your head is thrown back again against Dutch’s shoulder as you near your third orgasm, Dutch’s face one of pride and awe as he encourages you quietly. As if by some miracle, John’s teeth graze your clit once more at the precise moment Arthur’s fingertips rub into your sweet spot and you let out pained shout as you come. Upon hearing your cries, and feeling you tighten and contract against him, Arthur removes his fingers and joins John in gently prolonging the pleasure by lapping at your swollen and hot folds for your release that had finally began to seep out. The whimpering noises that escaped them as they did were unlike anything you’d ever heard. Their silent groans run through your recovering body, mind coming back to the present.

This afterglow gives you newfound strength and you pull yourself up to sit, a desperate need to reward and praise the two for their work. They eagerly expect this and stop their lapping to kiss your face, lips and neck which now resembles a bad case of pox with so many nips and bites. You taste yourself through both of their hot mouths, tongues and moans coaxing one another. When you finally pull away, one hand at the back of each of their necks you observe them so flushed and dazed with arousal. The room’s air is almost claustrophobic, making all of your skins feel too heated and tight. You move your hands to their jaws, and they both lean into them with sighs and huffs. You can’t imagine how desperate they are, you and Dutch had had plenty of fun and well needed release but these two were pent up like animals. You feel those intense eyes on your back again, always watching, observing and approving.

“You two are such good boys…” You coo in between deep breaths, noting their trembling at your words. Your hands slip from their jaw to their necks, skin prickled and burning.

“I want you two to get out of your clothes for me” You nod to them slowly, making sure the words get through their hazed minds but they need no further instruction and begin quickly undressing. Dutch kisses your shoulder and leaves the bed, which sighs in relief at the lost weight. You barely notice as you witness just how worked up John and Arthur were, barely able to remove their trousers with the tent in them. John is out of his worn clothes first, narrow hips sliding out of Arthur’s old town pants with ease. You admire them for a moment, their differences nevermore stark than now. John’s slight frame is contrasted with a dark mass of hair running from his chest to toned stomach whereas Arthur’s blond hair runs a deeper shade of light brown to his built thighs. They resume their previous task and lick and suck at every bit of skin on your neck and chest, while your eyes eventually find Dutch who has retired to the lone armchair in the small room. He rifles through your belongings before finding a pack of your cigarettes, lighting one and reclining into the old chair. His legs spread and other hand on his clothed lap as he watches the three of you. You smile at him dreamily, a gesture he gladly reciprocates as he strokes his thigh and you decide to dish out some more orders which the two on the bed have so obediently followed tonight. You turn to Arthur first, his face held between your thumb and forefinger.

“I want you to get on your back for me” You murmur, face close to his and he nods as much as he can in this position. You release him and he obeys, knees bent and spread as he awaits further instruction, his cock lying hard against his stomach. John is almost delirious with arousal at this point, nearly finishing without a touch when you tell him to get behind you. You had quickly planned this to involve them all in the final act of the night. Dutch observing from his chair next to the bed, directly in front of the rest of you. Arthur helps you straddle him, his breath quick with anticipation and you feel his cock twitch against your folds before he takes hold of it to guide himself inside. He needed no outside help in sliding into you, having been so overstimulated and prepped by Dutch. The joint groans that fill the room as you take him in bringing a smile to Dutch as he continues to puff away in front of you. His legs spread further at the sound as if by instinct, left hand beginning to palm his growing erection in his trousers. When you feel yourself finally comfortable against Arthur’s length, you turn your head back to beckon John forward. He almost trips over his own eagerness at your call, but his wide grin falters at your next command.

“As good as you’ve been tonight, you’ve been picking at Arthur for weeks now and driving the rest of us insane. You can rut against me if you want, but you ain’t getting inside me tonight, boy” You speak sweetly, but a wicked smile graces your lips as Arthur rocks his hips gently at your words. Dutch lets out a hoarse bark of a laugh at this, watching the hurt on John’s flushed face.

“Atta girl! Give the boy some real motivation!”

Unable to remain patient Arthur jolts upright and kisses you with an open mouth. Groaning against you as he begins to grip your thighs and rock against you atop of him. You hear John curse behind you and then feel a set of hands grip your ass before feeling his slick cock being placed between your cheeks. His fingers squeeze the pieces of flesh together to get some friction around his length, a somewhat tolerable workaround for him. You push against Arthur with your hands on his chest until he lies flat against the sheets, leaning down to meet his swollen lips once more. You know he wont last long after everything that’s happened tonight, and your theory is confirmed when his spread fingers dig deeper into your thighs, cock beginning to spear you from underneath. You moan loudly against his neck as he bounces you against him, sweet words of encouragement and thanks being whispered in your ear. The feeling of him filling you up so completely, the angle at which he hits, the feeling of John growing more erratic as he thrusts against your ass and the unmistakable heat of Dutch’s gaze helps you fall apart again against Arthur’s chest.

With so many waves of pleasure overwhelming your body already, you had barely lasted over a few minutes but you knew the others weren’t far behind. Arthur’s arms wrap around your back, pulling you ever closer against him as he grows sloppy in his thrusts and he plants a rough but firm kiss against your hair as he pulls out. He doesn’t move his hands to finish himself off, having reached the peak through the friction of your stomach against his. His seed coating you both as he shakes underneath you. John leans forward, lips dancing against your spine as he pushes rougher against your ass cheeks, dirty nails digging into the flesh. His hoarse grunts become more animalistic until he finishes with a deep, pained growl. His own release coating your ass and lower back as he continues to grind gently against you, coming down from the high. Heaving breaths from the three of you dying down until the room grows quiet for the first time in almost an hour. The distant laughs and crooning from the saloon downstairs reminding you that you are in fact still alive. You gently kiss against Arthur’s neck, a small hum coming from him as he nuzzles against your touch. You raise your head and see Dutch cleaning his own mess with his stained cloth, you hadn’t even heard him touching himself over the other men. He meets your eye and stands to hit feet, a deep sigh at the cracking of his back. He knew that if he was tired that you were fit to sleep for a solid fortnight. He motions for John to move and get himself dressed, leaving you to be held a moment longer in Arthur’s arms, almost ready to drift off there and then but he doesn’t allow it. He comes to your side, brushing the hair from your face and asks you to get into the bed, but you simply groan at the thought of moving again and bury your face in Arthur’s neck instead. You faintly hear him chuckle to himself before telling Arthur to do it himself. He unwillingly agrees and moves slowly to place you down on the worn pillows.

Your feeble protests ignored as he moves off the bed to retrieve his own clothes. Dutch sits at your side, pulling sheets onto your cooling body as they do so. The adrenaline from what happened finally begins to subside, leaving you exhausted and almost dozing off as he speaks to you. You’re very nearly sure he said something about leaving town tomorrow before noon, the information disappearing as quickly as he spoke but you couldn’t bring yourself to focus. Sensing this he simply smiles, forgetting how tired you must be and calls the now clothed John and Arthur to your bedside. He kisses you softly on your much abused but loved lips, and you giggle against them when you feel two other sets of lips kiss either side of your cheek in thanks and praise. The four of you indulge in the light-heartedness of the moment and wish each other silent goodnights. When the bedroom door finally clicks shut, properly this time – you stretch against the sheets noting every ache and pain as they announce themselves. You only smile dreamily once again at the feeling, the signs of a job well done.


End file.
